The Werewolf
by Caeyle
Summary: What's happening to Remus? What about James? And- wait, is it just a dream? Or is it a vision... a vision of what will be...


Title: The Werewolf Chapter: Denial Author: Caeyle Rating: PG-13 Disclaimer: Not my characters, all JK Rowling's.  
  
  
  
"I am Remus Lupin, a normal wizard," Remus said to himself, watching his reflection in the mirror. "Just a wizard," he repeated firmly. Just a wizard, not that dangerous nightmare of a wolf. No, just a wizard. Nothing else.  
  
The four sat at the table, eating breakfast. Just eating. Nothing else, no jokes, no pranks, no teasing, nothing. The silence was almost unbearable. Peter was looking toward the Ravenclaw table with an expression of wistful longing on his face, Sirius glaring at the Slytherins, James looking everywhere but Remus, mashing his egg to pieces.  
  
Full moon tomorrow. Remus was feeling more restless by the minute, even though it was only morning. And it didn't help that the Marauders were splitting up. Why was James mad anyway? Remus hadn't done anything he knew of to anger James. He decided to ask him after breakfast. After all, how can you resolve a problem if you don't know what it is?  
  
In the corridor, as everyone rushed out to get to class, Remus stopped James. He made as if to brush past, but Remus grabbed his wrist.  
  
"What?" James snarled. James never used that tone of voice. Not even with Snape. Did that mean Remus was something worse?  
  
"Tell me," Remus growled back, "Why you've been avoiding me." James almost looked startled, and Remus felt a bitter satisfaction. Two could play at this game.  
  
"As if I need to tell you," James responded icily.  
  
"Tell me." Remus twisted his wrist hard. One bite, clear to the bone, make it shatter into a million little pieces, taste the blood, drink in the fear. What was he thinking? He decided he didn't care.  
  
Turning away, James wrenched his arm out of Remus' grip, slamming him against the wall with the action. He started to walk away. How dare he turn away? A tiny voice in his head told himself sternly he was being unreasonable, but that only served to irritate him further.  
  
A snarl of rage vibrated in his throat as he leapt after James. Oh yes, break every bone in his body, pound him until he's a mass of bones and blood. Remus could hear skull hitting stone, James's ragged breath of pain.  
  
Hands pulled Remus off James. No! His prey, his victim, his kill. Remus struggled in the firm grasp.  
  
"Remus!" The voice brought him back to his senses with a jolt. James stood up slowly, his face contorted with an expression of rage and pain. Livid bruises were already rising on his pale face, his glasses askew on his face and broken.  
  
"Go to class," Sirius said in that commanding voice he hardly used. With one last look at Remus, James stalked off. Sirius looked after him, then followed James. Remus was alone now, center of a quickly growing crowd trying to see what had happened.  
  
"Get out of my way," he snapped at a couple of second years as they shrunk back. No one messes with an angry sixth year. Storming through the parted crowd, he went up a flight of stairs, nearly stepping into the trick step. He hardly realized he was going to Gryffindor tower until he was halfway there. Stopping in the hallway to catch him breath, he tried to calm down. No! He wasn't that unreasonable snarling monster. It was James who was being unreasonable, a nasty little voice said. But he should have never lost his temper like that. Yes, you should have, that voice began again. You're a werewolf. Suddenly angry again for no good reason he could find, he stomped back downstairs to get to class.  
  
Professor McGonagall looked up just as James stormed into the classroom. She frowned, knowing something was going on. First Sirius, unusually quiet, no jokes, no tricks. Then James, coming in just a second before starting time, and looking like he's been in a fight. A muggle type fight.  
  
"Today, class," she began, "We are going to study complex transfigurations." Remus suddenly appeared, slamming the door of the classroom shut and making his way to his seat. "Mister Lupin, you are two minutes late," she informed him, checking her clock.  
  
"So what!" Something Snape or Black would say. Not Remus.  
  
Somewhat taken aback, she went on, eyes flashing. "Coming to class late is not acceptable. Detention."  
  
"I can't serve detention tonight, Professor." The last word sneered, said with no respect at all.  
  
Obviously talking to him now wasn't going to help. "See me after class, Lupin," she said, before turning back to the rest of the class.  
  
During the day, Remus tried to squash down the seething rage burning inside him. But it was so much easier to stay in this state. It's who you are. That nasty, sneering voice again. The wolf was taking over. The wolf was taking over, and this time he couldn't stop it. Deep inside him, though, a traitorous part called out in a steadily weakening voice, no, I'm not. I am not a monster. Stop!  
  
Title: The Werewolf Chapter: Death Rating: R, just to be safe  
  
Sirius was annoyed. Annoyed, irritated, furious, and, oh, the list could go on forever. Of all times, James and Remus just had to get into a fight. James had worked the whole quidditch team for a whole three hours. The rest of the quidditch team was probably still playing, even in the growing darkness. In the end, Sirius had walked out, but not before hitting a bludger in the direction of James. And right now, he couldn't even concentrate on his homework, because of that idiot, Snape. He decided he was going to kill Snape. Kill him, and soon. Turning around, he bumped into the said person.  
  
"What are you doing, Black?" he sneered. "You should be in your common room."  
  
Sirius debated for a second whether he should punch the arrogant slimeball in the face or insult him. He decided on the latter. "I should be wherever I want to be," he shot back. "And what about you, you brainless puddle of mud?"  
  
Snape looked furious, and for a second, Sirius thought he was going to curse him. "Five points from Gryffindor," he said smugly. "I'm a prefect, you know."  
  
As if that had anything to do with it. "So what!" Sirius growled. Suddenly, an idea struck him. He went on, in a tauntingly light voice, "I know something you don't know."  
  
"Why should I care? I know a lot of things you don't." Snape's expression was carefully guarded, not about to fall into another trick.  
  
"Oh, but this one's important."  
  
"Yeah, like what?" His interest was caught, for the time being, anyway.  
  
"I know how to get into the Shrieking Shack."  
  
"You're lying."  
  
"You can kill me afterwards if I am." Now that caught his interest. "See that tree, right over there."  
  
James tried to concentrate on his homework, but found he couldn't. He still had too much pent up energy inside him, even after the long, grueling quidditch practice he called for the team. Finally just scribbling down a random number to the arithmancy problem he had been attempting to work on, he looked out the window. And. wait a second. Why in hell would someone be walking toward the Whomping Willow? He looked again, carefully. Yes, definitely toward the Willow. And everyone knew the tree was dangerous, unless you knew how to freeze it. Bolting out of the common room, he sprinted down the to the entrance hall, hoping he would not be too late to stop the person from walking into those lethal branches, or worse, open the tree.  
  
Remus paced the Shrieking Shack, growling in frustration. He wanted prey, live prey, to hunt. To chase. To kill. Snarling, he bit his own side sharply, licking at the blood, hoping to satisfy his hunger. It only made it worse, bloodlust tacking him completely as he howled in despair. Looking up at the wooden ceiling, he felt anger well up within him. The sky was not supposed to be brown and dead, it was supposed to be black, filled with stars, and the large silver moon. Moon. He should see the moon there, large and shining.  
  
Suddenly, he heard the tiniest of noises, and perked up his ears. He could hear a creaking noise at the end of the tunnel. Now that was something worth investigating. With perfect control, he sneaked out of the Shrieking Shack and into the tunnel. Now he could see a bit of the night sky, and. No! A shadowy figure blocking. oh yes! With a growl, he raced toward the person, slamming into him with full force. He fell over, but Remus raced on. He could sense more people outside, why bother with that one? More people. yes, warmblooded creatures waiting for the taking. His prey. At last.  
  
Leaping out of the tree just as it closed, he sprung for the first thing in range, knocking it over, sharp claws digging into soft flesh as he bit him savagely. The person jerked underneath him in terror, giving an almost familiar cry. Was it. who was it? Peter? Who was Peter? His prey. On any other night he would have been content with the taste of another's blood in his mouth. But not tonight. Tonight he wanted to drink the blood, feel the warm liquid trickling down his throat. To tear him open, rip him apart, devour him alive. He ripped and tore through the person with razor sharp teeth. Blood spattered his muzzle and the ground, turning the earth a dark red color. The terrified screams reverberated in his sensitive ears, and he reveled in the noise, taking in the terror and converting it into energy.  
  
Suddenly, showers of curses were shot toward Remus, and he quickly rolled to the ground, dodging the colorful sparks of light. Then a large black dog came forward to meet him, teeth bared, hackles up. His friend? No, werewolves don't have friends. His enemy. Remus came forward, muzzle still coated in blood, white teeth stained with red showing. They clashed, a snarling ball of black and brown. The dog soon tired from the furious attacks, but the werewolf only seemed to get more powerful. They separated for a moment, growling at each other, before the dog lunged for his shoulder. It was a fatal mistake. He thrashed for a second, tenaciously clinging to life, before he lay still, throat slashed.  
  
Remus was loose. Not Remus. The werewolf. The werewolf was loose. Remus wouldn't do such things to his friends. Oddly, James could hardly think right now, just stand and stare numbly at his two slaughtered friends. Peter lay a few yards away, but James couldn't look at him. Bloody and mangled. As good as dead, although he still screamed. No magic could fix those horrific wounds.  
  
He couldn't think any more. Just stood there, watching Snape open the tree, watching Peter being cut down, watching Sirius fight to the death. A battle he knew he couldn't win. Watch as the werewolf stood over the still black form, howling his victory to the moon. It was a damn rotten way to die, as a dog. And as Remus turned toward him, he felt a chilling fear go through him. Knowing Remus wasn't going to stop. He was his next victim.  
  
Raising his wand with a shaking hand, with no idea what he was going to do, he pointed it at the werewolf. The wolf sprung. A quick, crushing bite to his wand arm. It didn't hurt. James's mind was remembering the incident in the hall. It felt just like that, when Remus had grabbed his wrist. He was going to tear him open now, just like Peter. He didn't feel anything now, only a numbness. Suddenly, the wolf ran into the forest, howling. The howl, full of rage and hate, would haunt James for a long time. For the rest of his life. He hardly saw the ring of teachers around him as he slumped to the ground. For some reason, he felt tears on his face, as he whispered, "No! No."  
  
Oh, he had been overpowered this time, but he would be back. He ran, dodging curses pelting at him, howling into the night. Death is here. Death is here! Then something hit him, and the last thing he saw was a flash of green light as the curse wiped his life from his body.  
  
Title: The Werewolf Chapter: Cowardice Rating: R  
  
The funeral for all three of them was held a week ago. James would never see Sirius's laughing eyes again, or Peter's bright smile, or Remus's look of amused annoyance. Sirius; buried in a little square box as a dog. Remus- who wasn't Remus at all, but entirely the fierce wolf, stiff, frozen in his posture of menacing rage.  
  
It was a thoroughly stupid thing to get mad about anyway. If only he hadn't let his blind anger rise up just because Remus was dating Lily, if only he had been watching Sirius more closely, if only he had gotten to Snape in time.  
  
But he hadn't. He hadn't, and the occurring events had left Peter, Sirius, and Remus dead. All of them dead, and he had been left with the mark of a werewolf on his wrist. Just a small, inconspicuous bite, really. One that had the ability to curse James's life for eternity.  
  
McGonagall had been the one who had killed Remus- no, rather the werewolf. But James knew Remus was buried deep inside the raging animal. That Remus had tried to overcome the wolf. Or had he? It was the wolf that had confronted him in the hall, the wolf that had come into transfiguration. James knew he was being unreasonable, knew he shouldn't be angry with McGonagall. Sirius was supposed to be the unreasonable one. But that strange part of his mind told him McGonagall had murdered his friend, no matter how many times she had told him he was a dangerous beast and it was lucky no one else was killed. But Remus wasn't a dangerous. yes, he was. no.  
  
Oh, this was just too confusing. James didn't know what he wanted anymore. Everyone in the school knew he was a werewolf, and he had gone from being the most popular to the most avoided. He should have died. Being dead would be better. He had been expecting death, even ready for it. And instead he got a curse no one should have to endure.  
  
James slowly walked from Gryffindor common room down the stairs. Better to pace the hall than do nothing. A fourth year passing him quickly moved to the other side of the corridor. It's not like I'm going to grow fangs and terrorize everyone, he thought bitterly. But who cares? Oh, but he did, and a resentment fell over him like a large shadow. He didn't even have quidditch anymore. After all, who wanted a goddamned werewolf as their team captain? Certainly not the Gryffindors, that was for sure.  
  
As he walked past the library, the calendar tacked to the billboard in front of it caught his attention. It was nearly a month after 'the tragedy' as everyone called it, and. Oh. God. Nearly a month, and today is full moon. Full moon. Now he knew why Remus loathed the moon, hated it with all his heart, dreaded it. He could see Remus transforming into the fierce, savage beast as he watched in his stag form. Except this time it wasn't Remus.  
  
A wolf howled in the Shrieking Shack late at night. James could feel the brutal force welling up inside his new body, the bloodthirsty mind of a predator. Snarling fiercely, he tore himself into shreds, bit at the wooden walls encasing him, wailing his grief to the ceiling of the Shack. Only one thought ran through the savage mind of his, he wanted out. Out, into the forest, with the comforting blanket of darkness, and soothing light of the moon. Out, where he could be free, to do whatever he liked. But his frantic attacks of the walls had no effect, they stood as strong as ever. He might as well have been trapped in a box of metal. He had been in the Shrieking Shack before, but had never noticed before how small it was, how confining. In his frustration, he turned on himself, tearing his thick hide open with sharp teeth. He threw himself against the walls in agonized desperation, begging to be let out. No one came to answer his calls. He was alone.  
  
Early in the morning, James Potter lay on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, thrashing restlessly, further opening wounds from last night's trials.  
  
"No, no," he whispered softly. No, he can't chase Sirius, Sirius is a friend, no, stop.  
  
Jerking awake, he stared around at the walls of the Shack. No, it was just a dream, Sirius was already dead, already dead. He couldn't kill Sirius if he was dead, he told himself. But the rest wasn't. The rest was real, his morph into the fierce wolf, the howling, the pain.  
  
Most of all the loneliness. James had never been so lonely in his life, always had someone with him, supporting him mentally even if he wasn't physically there. But now, no one. No Sirius, or Remus, or Peter. No one to simply just be his friend. He had taken friends for granted, just another part of life. Now he knew what Remus had felt like when they had found him, an outcast for all of his young life before Hogwarts.  
  
The emptiness echoed in his head, and a strange ringing sound was in his ears. He was supposed to be dead. Supposed to be dead. dead, dead. Not alive, not in this world, not here in this shack. He was shivering violently, not from the physical cold, but from something else that seemed to touch his very soul, drowning it in waves of cold. Like a dementor, ten times maximized.  
  
He felt like he was drowning in a white mist, swirling and thick, blinding and confusing him. Groping blindly for his wand, carelessly dropped on the floor after his transformation had begun, he raised it and pointed it at himself. Supposed to be dead. The words echoed around in his head, reaching an overwhelming rush of noise.  
  
"Avada Keda." he whispered hoarsely. The killing spell. As he said it, he wondered how he knew the curse. Then. The last thing he saw was a flashing green light chasing away the mist. The last thing he heard was the chant 'supposed to be dead' fading away. The last thing he remembered was the werewolf lying dead close to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, howling even as he fell.  
  
Title: The Werewolf Chapter: Truth Rating: PG  
  
James tossed and turned before finally rolling over too far and falling off of his bed with a loud thud. Slowly he came awake, blinking at the bright sunlight coming from the window.  
  
"Hey James, was it really necessary to pull down your curtains?" Sirius laughed, lying on his bed and watching James amusedly.  
  
"Er, what. wait a second. oh, never mind." James saw he had pulled his curtains on top of himself. Standing up, he shook his head. He was about to ask, 'Wait, aren't you dead?' which would have been an extremely stupid thing to say, as Sirius was alive as. well, alive as he could be. So what was all of that? A dream? Somehow it seemed so more realistic, so vivid. He could remember every detail still. Could feel Remus's fierce anger, feel what he had been thinking, as if he had been Remus himself.  
  
"James?" Sirius questioned. "What's wrong?"  
  
James shrugged, suddenly feeling very tired, as if he had been running around all night. "Nothing, I guess. Just a weird dream." Yes, a very weird dream.  
  
"So. want to go down for breakfast or something?"  
  
"Not re-" James broke off, yawning. "Really. I'm going back to bed." Finding his wand, he put the curtains back up then climbed into his bed. Instead of falling asleep, though, he stared up at the top of his bed. He wondered if the dream could be a glimpse into the future. Possibly. But then, James had never believed in divination.  
  
The four marauders sat at the Gryffindor table eating breakfast, unusually quiet. Sirius was glaring at the Slytherin table, Peter occasionally glancing at the Ravenclaw table, and Remus restless and preoccupied. Wasn't that how it was in the dream? James watched Remus uneasily. Remus looked up, feeling James's eyes on him.  
  
"Why are you staring at me?" Remus asked.  
  
James shrugged. "You should eat your oatmeal," he said, looking at Remus's untouched bowl. In this version of life, Remus was not dating Lily. He wondered how that had worked its way into the dream, if it was a dream. Although she was a serious type, and would be perfect for Remus, if James hadn't.  
  
"Y'know, you actually sound like my mum," Remus said. Tension was broken, and everyone who had heard the exchange broke up into laughter. At least it distracted Sirius, James thought, trying not to blush and failing.  
  
"We have Transfiguration next," James stated, to distract Sirius and Peter.  
  
Sirius rolled his eyes. "Of course we have Transfiguration next. Did we ever have any other class on Fridays?"  
  
"Erm, no, not really." James trailed off as everyone started laughing again. He shook his head despairingly. "You guys are hopeless. I'm going to get a book I left behind, see you all in Transfiguration," he said, noticing a red-haired person stand up a few seats down.  
  
"No James, you're the one who's hopeless," Sirius said, watching James's retreating back.  
  
"Evans?" James rushed after Lily, nearly tripping on a mislaid quill in the corridor.  
  
Lily turned around sharply. "What, Potter?" she snapped. "Here to insult me again, or turn my hair bright green, or something of that sort?"  
  
"No, nothing of that sort," James said seriously.  
  
"Then what?"  
  
"Y'know," James asked, a thought occurring to him, "if you don't like us, then why do you spend so much time with Remus?"  
  
"It's not my fault he's the only nice one of you four," she said impatiently, "I'm surprised he even hangs out with you."  
  
"Really?" James pretended to look surprised. "Well, anyway, tomorrow is Saturday, want to come to Hogsmeade with me?"  
  
"What?! Why would I want to come with you to Hogsmeade?" Lily's green eyes looked suspicious.  
  
"Call it a meeting of enemies," James said, grinning cheekily. "Meet you there at ten." He then quickly ducked out of sight into another corridor, just in case she tried to curse him.  
  
James watched the door during the beginning of Transfiguration. He saw Lily talking quietly to Carrie Brown. He thought about casting a spell to listen in, but then decided against it. Lily or Carrie would probably notice anyway. Just as McGonagall was about to start the day's lesson, Sirius stormed in, just within starting time. James felt the uneasy feeling rise inside him again. At least he was safely inside, and he didn't storm in either. Still.  
  
"Okay, class," McGonagall started after a sharp look at Sirius, "today we are going to study complex transfigurations in depth. Can anyone tell me about some complex tranfigurations that wizards have used?"  
  
Just then, both Remus and Peter ran into the classroom, two minutes late.  
  
"Lupin, Pettigrew, explain yourselves!" McGonagall said sharply.  
  
"Well," Remus started, "I had to go get my quill, Professor, and I got stuck in the sinking step. Peter, who was just coming down from the House freed me, but then Peeves came by, and took our bags, and we had to chase him around half the castle to get them back." By the time he had finished this narrative, he was very out of breath, a combination of running to class and then saying a very long sentence without breathing in between words.  
  
"Very well, but coming to class still isn't acceptable. Detention tonight for both of you," she said, muttering under her breath about annoying poltergeists.  
  
Peter went to his seat wordlessly, but Remus remained standing. "I'm afraid I can't serve detention tonight, Professor," he said softly. As he said that, James felt a prickle of foreboding run down his back. A far cry from the defiant werewolf, but the same words. It was full moon tonight, James recalled. He had forgotten. Well, all he could do was watch everyone. The dream was far too close to the real events, and it, well, scared him. Dreams are not supposed to show next day's happenings. At least, regular dreams aren't.  
  
All the other classes passed without a hitch. He tried to remember in his dream if anything was supposed to happen in the other classes. Strangely, he couldn't remember anything- it seemed as if it had skipped from morning to night.  
  
He walked down from the Main Hall, looking for Sirius. He wasn't at dinner, which was unusual, considering Sirius was always hungry. He could be in the library, probably not though, or the common room, or the corridors somewhere. After wandering around the castle for awhile, he decided it would take forever to locate Sirius, the castle was so big. Of course, he could use the Marauders' Map, but he had several essays to complete for tomorrow, so he went to Gryffindor common room to start working on them.  
  
As he was working, he occasionally looked out the window. Nothing was there, he could see the small flickering lights on the grounds breaking through the growing darkness. Then a shadowy figure appeared, and - wait, a shadowy figure! He was heading for the tree, why would he be heading for the Whomping Willow? Then it hit him. It was Snape.  
  
Wasting no time, he grabbed his wand and rushed down to the Entrance Hall. He felt that uneasiness and fear return in full force. Was the dream really true then? Would all of the Marauders die?  
  
Racing outside, he spotted Snape almost all of the way to the tree. If he could just get there in time. "No!" he yelled. If Snape heard, he ignored the cry. James saw the tree opening-- if he could just pull Snape out and close the tree.  
  
Yes-- he was in time. He grabbed Snape away from the tree and the branches started to move again. "What the hell are you." They could both see the wolf snarling at the end of the tunnel, racing toward them.  
  
And the tree closed the tunnel-- just in time. They could hear the wolf's cry of rage, snarling and growling. James pulled Snape with him, dodging flailing branches. He could feel them hitting at him all the same, but it didn't matter. The dream was just a dream.  
  
Edited 2/18/02 - put everything all in one chapter, the really short chapters are kind of annoying. Nothing else is changed.  
  
Edited 6/11/02-Read it over, fixed a few things. 


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